


A Many Splendored Thing

by shions_heart



Series: Being Human [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (in the tensemi), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 00:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20986121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: y'all already know what this isif you want to filter your interests:Ch1: UshiTenCh2: TenSemiCh3: SemiShiraCh4: ShiraGoshi





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write all of ushitensemishiragoshi's first times in the being human 'verse
> 
> so, like, here

The sun crests over the horizon, painting the sky with pink and purple and gold. Ushijima pauses at the top of hill to watch, as the city below glitters in the dawning light. Beside him, Tendou comes to a stop, panting as he bends at the waist. Goshiki arrives next, still jogging with seeming limitless energy, as he calls down the hill toward Shirabu, who’s a few meters behind.

“Come on, Shirabu-san! You can do it!”

Shirabu frowns, pushing forward up the incline. “I’m going to murder you,” he says to Goshiki, reaching for him.

The younger man laughs and dashes away down the hill, Shirabu stumbling after him. “Get back here!”

Tendou cackles, as he straightens, hands on his hips, watching them go. “Kids today,” he says, shaking his head.

“Why did Shirabu join if he’d rather sleep?” Ushijima asks, knowing his early morning runs aren’t appreciated by everyone in the house. Yamagata stated that since he’s no longer their teacher, he can’t force them to get up at the “ass-crack” of dawn to run, especially since they all work out and train together three times a week and run five kilometers once a week. Kawanishi agreed with the sentiment. Semi and Leon join occasionally, but usually it’s Ushijima, Tendou, and Goshiki, with Shirabu trailing along behind stubbornly despite never being fully awake.

“He’s not going to let Goshiki beat him, and he admires you,” Tendou replies, stretching his arms above his head. “I bet he won’t last long doing this every day, though.” He grins, putting his arms out behind him. “Want to see me run faster than a bullet?”

Without waiting for Ushijima’s reply, he takes off down the hill with a yell, bent forward with his arms straight out behind him. It’s an ineffective form, as he doesn’t run any faster than normal. In fact, Ushijima passes him on his way down.

“That was not an effective running form,” he informs him once Tendou catches up.

Tendou laughs. “Of course it’s effective! It’s the Naruto run!”

“Ah,” Ushijima says, though he has no idea what “Naruto” is.

Tendou gives him a sidelong look. “You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of him.”

Tendou grins. “Awesome. I get to introduce you, then!”

“Does he live close-by? We could change our route.”

Tendou bursts into hysterical laughter. Ushijima doesn’t understand, but just hearing it brings a warm feeling to his chest. Although the Shiratorizawa group have only been living with him for a few weeks, he’s been experiencing that feeling more and more frequently. Usually it’s instigated by Tendou, but sometimes it’s one of the others. He’s never lived in a more chaotic place. It’s definitely different from his normal routine. But he’s found it easier to adjust to than he initially thought it’d be.

Goshiki manages to keep pace with Ushijima on the way back, Tendou and Shirabu falling behind. In a burst of second-wind, Shirabu finishes second, with Tendou bringing up the rear.

“I call the shower first!” Goshiki exclaims, sprinting up the stairs.

“The fuck you do! I’m your senpai!” Shirabu yells, charging after him.

“IT’S SIX-THIRTY IN THE MORNING SHUT THE FUCK UP!” comes a disembodied voice from one of the bedrooms.

Ushijima watches them go dubiously. “There is a second bathroom on the first floor,” he tells Tendou.

Tendou grins. “Looks like we’ll have it all to ourselves, then,” he lilts, heading in the direction of the first-floor bathroom.

There are six bedrooms in the house. Four upstairs and two downstairs, along with the kitchen, dining area, living area, and office, which Ushijima also uses as a miniature gymnasium. Each bedroom has its own toilet, but there are only the two bathrooms, each of which holds a shower and a bathtub.

Ushijima is somewhat grateful that the two upstairs will be fighting over that shower, as that leaves him alone with Tendou. He always enjoys the time they spend together one-on-one. All of Tendou’s attention focuses on him, and it makes him feel . . . special.

It’s a trivial thing, perhaps, but it warms Ushijima’s chest and so he encourages it when he can.

Tendou strips off his clothes once they’re in the bathroom, leaving them in a pile on the floor by the door, as he whistles a jaunty tune and turns the showerhead about halfway toward the red dot. Ushijima undresses slower, watching Tendou unabashedly, as he tests the water. Although he’s somewhat gangly, he’s also lean with musculature that’s been toned by repeated work-outs and training sessions. He’s not conventionally attractive, but Ushijima likes the uniqueness of his features.

Tendou glances over his shoulder, catching him staring. “Like what you see?” he grins, flexing his arms.

Ushijima nods, ever truthful. “I do,” he admits, stepping up behind Tendou once he’s nude. 

Tendou’s gaze drops to his groin, before he looks away, a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. Ushijima checks the water with one hand, testing its temperature. Tendou leans slightly against his chest.

“You’re rather impressive yourself,” he says quietly.

Ushijima lets his hand fall to Tendou’s waist, sliding it down to his hip. Tendou shivers against him, though he can’t be cold because the water temperature has changed to the desired heat. It feels nice, though, Tendou’s body against his.

He feels a familiar urge take him. In the past when he’s had these urges, he’s either taken care of them himself, or found a willing partner for the night. It’s a simple transaction resulting in pleasure for both parties, but Ushijima never thinks much of them. They’re a means to an end, that’s all.

With Tendou, though . . . he knows it will be different. Feel different. He wants to explore that hypothesis. Experiment until he comes to a good conclusion. From the way Tendou’s resting back against him, it appears he’s willing.

Still, Ushijima knows it’s important to make sure, so he clears his throat to get Tendou’s attention.

“Yes, Wakatoshi?” Tendou tilts his head back instead of turning, grinning upside down, as the water from the showerhead hits his throat and streams down his body.

“I would like to engage in intercourse with you,” Ushijima tells him, not acknowledging the way his heartrate picks up speed at the statement.

Tendou’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh. Really?” He lowers his chin, turning around to face him, now, looking up at him. “I’ve never done it before.”

That surprises Ushijima. “You and Semi Eita . . .”

Tendou shakes his head. “Nope! I kinda wanted to have some experience before I did it with him, so I’d know what to do and all, but nobody at the academy was going to lose it to a monster.”

Ushijima frowns at the insult. “You are not a monster.”

Tendou smirks. “Good! Because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have sex with one either.” He flips up a hand in a peace sign. “I’m down for it!” he continues without giving Ushijima a chance to respond. “Just so long as we can do it again. No hit it and leave it.”

Ushijima shakes his head. “I have no desire to leave it,” he admits. No, he wants to do this with Tendou, and only Tendou. He feels no need to search for other sexual partners if Tendou is willing to be his. He’s sure he can get enough gratification from doing the act with him to sustain his urges.

Setting his hand against Tendou’s cheek, he closes the space between them to place a gentle kiss against Tendou’s mouth. It’s rare that he kisses his partners, but again, Tendou is unique. He brings a warmth that Ushijima has never experienced with anyone else.

Tendou presses back into the kiss, bringing one hand up to lay against Ushijima’s side. His touch is more hesitant than Ushijima expected. He hasn’t known Tendou to be unsure of anything. Pulling back, he looks down into Tendou’s eyes.

“I do not wish to do this if you are not ready for it. I know this crosses a line in our relationship. If you’d rather take things slower, I do not—”

“Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou grins up at him. “I appreciate the gesture but trust me; I want this. The Great Ushijima Wakatoshi? Are you kidding me? It’s an honor to be fucked by you!”

Ushijima stares at him a moment, studying his face to make absolutely certain that he’s reading Tendou correctly. He’s not the best at reading people, he does rather poorly, actually, but all he gathers from Tendou’s expression is that his sentiment is sincere.

Gently, he turns Tendou back around, pulling his hips flush against his own. Tendou curves his body into his, biting his lip. Ushijima watches his eyes flutter closed, as he runs his hands up and down the length of Tendou’s torso from his ribs down to his thighs. He appreciates the warmth of Tendou’s skin, the smoothness of it. He’s seen Tendou’s flexibility, and he wants to test the limits of it, see how he can mold it beneath his touch.

There’s not much they can do in a bathroom sans lube and a condom, but he can get them started. As he continues to run his right hand against Tendou’s skin, he presses a soft kiss into the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder. He plants a line of small kisses along his shoulder, noticing the faint freckles there. The skin is wet from the shower, and warm, and he takes a moment to bask in it, as his left hand slides across the front of Tendou’s stomach and then dips lower, through the soft hair beneath his navel, down to the half-hard erection.

As he curls his hand around it, Tendou makes a soft noise, a hitch in his breath. Ushijima kisses up the side of his neck to his ear, taking the lobe between his lips to nibble at it, slowly tugging on the shaft in his grip. Tendou chuckles around a moan.

“You don’t have to go slow for my benefit,” he says, voice low.

Ushijima doesn’t quicken his pace. “It is better for you if I take my time.”

“Still, what about you, Miracle Boy?” He rotates his hips slowly, rubbing his ass against Ushijima’s own member. It responds to the stimulation with a twitch.

“I will take care of myself.”

“Using me, though, right? You gotta use me for that.”

“Mm. Yes.” 

Ushijima isn’t sure what the point of this conversation is. He’s already told Tendou what he plans to do. He likes Tendou’s voice, though, so he’s not going to discourage the talking. He places another kiss behind Tendou’s ear, stroking the warm skin of his cock in his hand until it becomes fully erect. He focuses on the tip, then, rolling it between his fingers, as Tendou shudders and bows inward some. The water from the shower hits his chest, the heat turning his skin red. Or perhaps that’s from Ushijima’s touch. It pleases him to think it’s the latter.

“Ah, Wakatoshi,” Tendou murmurs, and he undulates his hips against Ushijima’s once more.

Ushijima responds favorably. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the side of Tendou’s, listening to his heavy breaths, as he begins tugging on him once more. He alternates between tugging and fingering the tip, until he begins to feel sticky liquid mix with the water from the shower. His own erection has begun throbbing, some, so he pulls away and takes a step back.

Tendou’s eyes open, and he glances over at him curiously.

“Do not leave,” Ushijima instructs. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Tendou gives him a jaunty salute. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Moving out of the path of the water, Ushijima finds a towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he leaves the bathroom to enter his room on the first floor. Opening the top drawer of his dresser, he retrieves a condom and the bottle of lube that sits beside his underwear. He returns to the bathroom, then, to find Tendou standing in the same position as before. He takes another moment to admire his form, this time with a flushed pink cock standing upright. Tendou notices him staring and grins, flipping him a peace sign.

“Enjoying the view, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“Yes,” he replies simply, removing his towel and letting it fall to the side. Stepping forward, he takes Tendou’s arm, turning him toward him, as he leans down to place a firm kiss upon Tendou’s mouth.

Tendou responds immediately, wrapping his arms around Ushijima’s neck and tilting his head to kiss him better. He slides his tongue into Ushijima’s mouth, and he allows it, enjoying the sensation, as he wraps his arm around Tendou’s waist and pulls him closer, out from underneath the spray of the water. Pulling back from the kiss, he turns Tendou to face the tiled wall of the bathroom.

“Brace yourself against it and spread your legs,” he instructs.

Tendou gives a throaty chuckle but does as he’s told, setting his hands against the wall and standing with his feet apart. “Are you going to boss me around while we do this, Wakatoshi? Pretty hot.”

Ushijima blinks the water from his eyes. “This is the best position for this type of activity in this room.”

Tendou laughs again, resting his forehead against the tile as his eyes close. “We really need to work on your joke detector.”

“Ah. That was a joke.”

“Ding, ding, ding! Give the boy a prize!” Tendou twirls his finger in the air before laughing again.

Ushijima’s noticing he does this often when he’s anxious or nervous about something. He places his hand at Tendou’s side, stroking it gently. “We can do this another time, if you prefer.”

Tendou shakes his head quickly, glancing at him over his shoulder. “And give up the chance to have my first time be up against the wall of a bathroom? No way. This makes for an awesome cherry-popping story.”

Ushijima doesn’t completely understand, but he recognizes that Tendou doesn’t want him to stop. He nods, stepping close behind him once more. “Very well. I will use my fingers to prepare you. Please try to relax.”

Squeezing some lube out onto his fingers, he rubs them together to warm them, reaching down between Tendou’s legs then to push up against his entrance. Tendou inhales sharply, rising on his toes some before relaxing his heels back onto the floor. Ushijima kisses the back of his shoulder, as he begins to massage the hole, gently thrusting one finger in and out of it as he does. Tendou shivers and hums softly under his breath.

“That actually doesn’t feel so bad.”

“Good,” Ushijima says approvingly, carefully working his way up to two fingers and then three. Tendou starts whining softly at the stretch, shifting and adjusting his stance to try and give Ushijima more room. He stops shy of hitting his prostate, not wanting Tendou to lose it too soon. His cock is still dripping pre-cum, and Ushijima’s own erection has begun to weep for hearing and watching Tendou’s reaction to him.

“I think you are ready,” he announces after a few more minutes, drawing his fingers out.

Tendou’s panting hard, fingers pressed into the tile by his head. “Cool, cool, go for it.”

Ushijima takes a moment to stroke his clean fingers through Tendou’s hair. He pulls his head to the side with a light grip, kissing the exposed side of his neck. Sinking his teeth into a particularly soft spot, he begins to suck on it. His skin is warm and salty, Ushijima lingers, taking his time to relish the taste. Tendou moans along a breathy sigh. Next, Ushijima pulls back to roll on the condom and coat himself with the lube, being generous with the amount. The feel of his hand is a pleasurable one, but he doesn’t waste time, preferring to be inside of Tendou. 

“I will penetrate you now,” he informs Tendou, taking hold of his hips.

Tendou grins. “Promise?”

Ushijima almost responds before realizing that was another joke. Or, at least sarcasm. Perhaps. Bending his knees slightly, he lines himself up before straightening, as he pushes into Tendou at a gradual pace. Tendou’s head falls back, and his moan echoes off the tile around him. Ushijima has to stifle a groan of his own, as Tendou is incredibly tight and warm around him. He hasn’t had sex in a few months, and the sensation is sharp and good.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tendou gasps, as Ushijima settles in the rest of the way. His hands have curled into fists on the wall.

Ushijima reaches up to take one, bringing it back to kiss the knuckles lightly. Again, he feels that tug in his chest, the one that tells him Tendou isn’t like anyone else he’s ever met or been with in this way. This is more meaningful than the other sexual encounters he’s had, and he takes a moment to appreciate that thought.

“Shit, Wakatoshi . . . I knew you were big but . . . damn, that’s a good stretch,” Tendou laughs, high and thin.

“I will give you a moment to adjust,” Ushijima assures him, standing as still as possible, even though he can feel the rapid beat of his heart through his cock in the small, enclosed space.

Tendou nods gratefully, though, sucking in some air as he attempts to relax. “’Preciate it.”

Pleasure tingles through Ushijima’s abdomen and thighs, yet he continues waiting, running his thumb across Tendou’s knuckles, as his other hand grips his hip firmly.

Finally, Tendou nods. “Okay. Okay, you can start moving.”

Ushijima nods and does so. With careful, shallow thrusts at first, giving Tendou a moment to get used to the push and pull of the friction. It feels incredible for him, but he knows the sensation may be different for Tendou. He watches the young man’s profile, as he bites his lip and leans his forehead against the wet tile in front of him.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Tendou shakes his head. “No. No, I think . . . I want you to go faster.”

Ushijima grunts softly, picking up the pace as his hand holds Tendou steady. The increased friction causes the pleasure to burn hotter, and he stifles a groan, while Tendou presses his face into the tile.

“Fuck. Fuck me, Wakatoshi,” he moans.

“That is what I’m doing.”

Tendou’s laugh makes no sound other than a few puffs of air. Ushijima can’t help but smile, though, and he releases his hand in order to brush the wet hair back from his flushed cheek, wanting to watch his profile. He notices the way Tendou’s grimacing, but seeing as Tendou appears into this, it must be from pleasure instead of pain. His lips are parted, and he’s breathing hard through them, another moan escaping.

Ushijima grasps his hips in both hands, spreading his own legs further apart so he can go deeper with faster thrusts. Tendou cries out, fingers pressing so firmly against the tile his knuckles go white.

“Yes, yes, Wakatoshi. Oh, _fuck_,” he gasps.

This spurs Ushijima on, as the sound of Tendou speaking this way causes another rush of pleasure to surge through him. It’s not just the feel of his ass clenched tightly around his cock. It’s the warmth of Tendou’s skin, the strained tenor of his voice, Ushijima’s given name on those soft lips, bitten pink, as Tendou drags his teeth across them again and again. Ushijima has never paid such close attention to his partners, before. They were a means to an end, and they had little interest in him other than that, as well. They never spoke his name with such reverence, if they spoke at all.

This isn’t a transaction, this is a connection, and the warmth in Ushijima’s chest spreads throughout his body, giving him a pleasurable flush that’s new and intriguing.

“I like this,” he murmurs, and watches Tendou’s lips curl into a smile.

Yes, he’s enjoying himself quite a bit. He thrusts harder, pushing up against the place where he knows Tendou’s prostate resides. He’s rewarded with a yelp of surprise from Tendou, whose head falls back against Ushijima’s shoulder.

“Oh _fuck_ yeah!” he exclaims. “Whoooo-wheee! Damn! Do that again!”

Ushijima acquiesces, shoving hard against that spot, over and over, as Tendou cries out and pounds his fist against the tile.

“Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps out rapidly, his body starting to tremble.

Ushijima moves one hand around to grab the base of Tendou’s wet cock, slipping his hand through the pre-cum trailing down the side to tug on him in tandem with his thrusts. Tendou groans at his touch, dropping his head forward to tap it against the tile rhythmically.

He’s getting close. Ushijima can tell. His own pleasure is growing, as well. He knows he won’t last much longer, but he concentrates on Tendou, on making him feel as good as possible. It’s what he wants to do, and it seems like he’s doing well.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Tendou hisses, his entire body growing rigid, before he comes onto the tile and Ushijima’s hand, groaning loud and low in the process.

Ushijima releases Tendou’s member in order to grab both of his hips, slamming into him as quickly and deliberately as he can, focusing on his own climax, now. Tendou bites his lip, but a whimper escapes, as his eyes squeeze shut. His flush has spread from his cheeks down to his neck, and the freckles on his shoulders are blending with the red there, too.

It only takes a few more thrusts for Ushijima to reach his orgasm. He groans, low in his throat, as he stiffens and allows the pleasure to wash over him, trailing sparks behind it that tingle beneath his skin, giving him goosebumps.

Carefully, he pulls out and removes the condom. As he ties it off to throw away, Tendou sags against the wall, sliding down to kneel on the floor, pressing his forehead against it. Once Ushijima has disposed of the used condom, he returns to gently lift Tendou up from the floor. His head lolls to one side, and he gives Ushijima a crooked grin.

“That was pretty hot,” he says.

Ushijima is about to state the obvious, that they’re both flushed from the activity so of course the temperature has risen, before he realizes that’s not what Tendou meant. He’s getting better at recognizing those.

“I’ll help you wash off,” he says, guiding Tendou back underneath the stream of the water from the shower. The entire room is full of steam, but the water has grown cold. He turns the knob closer to the red and after a moment it warms.

Tendou leans against him, as Ushijima grabs a washcloth and uses it to carefully clean them both. He picks Tendou up, then, and carries him over to the bathtub, placing him inside. He goes to the shower to turn off the water, before grabbing a couple towels. He wraps one around his waist before getting into the tub beside Tendou. He wraps the other around Tendou’s shoulders, rubbing his arm and back gently as he tucks it around him.

“How was it for you, Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou asks, leaning his head against Ushijima’s shoulder once he settles back with one arm still wrapped around him.

“Good,” Ushijima says truthfully.

Tendou grins. “It’ll get better,” he assures him.

Ushijima blinks. “I am satisfied with how it went.”

Tendou snickers. “_Trust_ me, there are a ~lot~ of things we can do to make it even better.”

Ushijima decides to believe him, though he wonders how Tendou could possibly know when this was his first experience with sex.

Still, it’s something he looks forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

Tendou’s been . . . unusually quiet today. Semi noticed it this morning. He woke with a smile and a cheerful “good morning!” and greeted everyone the same at breakfast, but afterwards he just . . . settled into an almost pensive silence. He laughed when Yamagata nearly sliced off a toe when dropping one of his knives, and he gleefully informed Ushijima of the spinach stuck in his teeth, but still. Something’s off. He doesn’t suggest any wild and crazy plan for the weekend, or a grand scheme for their current hunting mission. He doesn’t go hunting at all, actually. Instead, he says he wants to work on the next page of his and Leon’s manga, waving them all off as they head out on assignment.

Semi lingers behind. Shirabu glances back at him, but he gestures that he’s okay and to go on with the rest. As the group walks off toward the city, Semi heads back inside. He walks up the stairs, following the sound of Tendou’s humming. He’s either in Ushijima’s room or Semi’s, and Semi’s not terribly surprised to find him in his.

Rarely does Tendou admit that something’s bothering him, but if he does, he’ll go to Semi more often than Ushijima. Ushijima cares for Tendou, that’s obvious to everyone, but Tendou’s confided in Semi that he lacks some of the emotional nuance it takes to deal with Tendou’s brand of trauma. Semi isn’t sure how _he’s_ any better, but he tries to be helpful. He’s never quite sure how successful he is, but he tries.

Now, he steps into the doorway and observes Tendou at his desk on his side of the room. Ushijima’s house is large, and the rooms are spacious. Semi doesn’t have many hobbies outside of training or hunting, so much of the room is taken up by Tendou’s workstation. He sits hunched over a sketchbook now, hand moving back and forth over it. Semi wonders what shenanigans he and Leon are writing about now.

“Hey,” he says, watching as Tendou stills.

“SemiSemi!” Tendou leans his head back so that he’s looking at Semi upside-down. “No hunting today? Are you feeling well?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Semi says, stepping further into the room. He walks over to where Tendou sits, placing his hand on Tendou’s forehead to feel for a fever. The others always tease him when he does this, calling him “mom” and asking when he got his medical license. He expects Tendou to do the same, so he’s surprised when Tendou leans into his touch, as he moves the back of his hand to Tendou’s cheek, chasing it when Semi pulls away.

He feels a slight twinge in his chest. He’s still getting used to seeing Tendou like this, all soft and tender. He probably shouldn’t wonder at the ache that spreads across his ribcage, but they’ve only been living together for a couple months. It’s an adjustment to see Tendou in a new light, as more than just his best friend. Semi came to terms with his feelings for Tendou during his last year at Shiratorizawa, unable to deny that the fear he felt, the desperation to keep Tendou close, meant he felt more for his roommate than he originally thought. He’s still learning about those feelings, still cultivating them, watching them grow. It’s exciting and confusing all at once.

Meanwhile, Tendou’s own deeper affections for him seemed to come out of nowhere. Semi only just realized them his last year, too. How long had Tendou kept it from him? Semi thought he was good at reading people, but then he’s never met anyone like Tendou Satori, before.

He’s doing the same thing now, though. Hiding his true feelings. Semi watches, as Tendou stretches his arms above his head with that weird little smile he uses when he doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s really thinking. It pisses Semi off, but he simply purses his lips and waits for the excuse.

“I’m fine, Eita-kun~ Just wanted to work on this next page. Goshi-chan said something yesterday that was _hil-ar-i-ous_, and I need to sketch it out before I forget what he looked like.” Tendou grins, bending over the paper again.

Semi frowns. “If we’re going to be together you really need to cut that shit out,” he says flatly.

Tendou looks up at him with wide-eyes, lips pursing. “Oh? And what kind of shit do I need to cut?”

Semi shakes his head. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Something’s bothering you, has been all day, but you’re just brushing it off and burying it like you always do. You know I’m here for you. I’m fucking good listener too, so if there’s something wrong, just _tell_ me.”

Tendou snickers. “No need to be so serious, SemiSemi! I’m fine. I swear.” At Semi’s skeptical look, he tilts his head, tapping his chin with his pencil. “Actually, there is something you could help me with.”

“What?” Semi asks warily, already not liking where this is going.

“I’m working on my magical girl transformation.” Tendou tosses his pencil onto his sketchbook, rolls his chair back, and stands. He throws his arms out to the side. “Observe!”

Semi watches, dumbfounded, as Tendou begins to spin, shouting a spell that lilts and falls like lyrics of a song. As he does, golden magic swirls around him, bright enough to cause Semi to squint and lift his hand against the glare. When it disappears, he lowers his hand to see Tendou standing before him, posing triumphantly . . . wearing a maid outfit.

It’s a black dress with ruffles around the hem and short sleeves, the skirt reaching mid-thigh. Over it is a ruffled white apron. On his legs are thigh-high white stockings with black bows on the cuffs, and he’s wearing black slip-on flats. The entire ensemble looks completely ridiculous on his tall, lean yet muscular frame, and in his wild red hair there’s a tiny maid headband tilted jauntily to the side.

“What the _fuck_?” Semi exclaims, clasping his hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh that’s shaking his chest.

Tendou looks down at himself and his eyes go wide in mock surprise. “Oh! This isn’t my hunting gear! I must’ve said the spell wrong!” He smacks his palm against his forehead, grinning, as Semi dissolves into laughter, unable to hold it back anymore.

He collapses against the bed, trying to sit but missing it completely and ending up on the floor. He’s wheezing, his chest aching for an entirely different reason, and Tendou continues to grin down at him, looking very pleased with himself.

“Ah well, I look pretty good like this too, don’t I?” he says, fluffing the skirt of the dress.

“You look absurd,” Semi says once he can breathe enough to talk. He shakes his head, pointing his finger up at Tendou. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Tendou tilts his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been working on this spell for _weeks_. I’m so disappointed.”

Semi manages to get his laughter down to giggles and then soft hiccups, as he presses the back of his head against the bed. He watches as Tendou moves to sit next to him, crossing his ankles and smoothing his hands over the skirt.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Tendou says, smiling down at his hands.

Semi hiccups softly, frowning at Tendou’s profile. “What is that_-hic-_supposed to mean?”

Tendou lifts his head, eyes wide and innocent. “It means I like your laugh, Eita-kun! Not everything I say has some deep, hidden meaning, you know.”

“That’s not_-hic-_aw, shit. Fuck,” Semi says, realizing he’s stuck with hiccups, now. He pinches his nose shut and tries to hold his breath, but it doesn’t work, another hiccup escaping.

Tendou gets a gleam in his eye that Semi absolutely does not trust, and before he can move, Tendou straddles his lap and slaps his hands on either side of Semi’s face. Semi’s breath catches in his throat automatically, and he freezes, as Tendou leans in to kiss him.

They honestly haven’t done this very much. At least, not like _this_. They’ve kissed a few times before, but most of Tendou’s attention the past two months has been on Ushijima, getting him acclimated to the group, gently nudging him out of his comfort zone, showing him how building and maintain a connection works. Semi and Tendou already have a connection, so it seemed less important to the both of them (at least to Semi) to rush into the more physical aspects of their relationship. Besides, Semi’s been working on Shirabu in sort of the same way, helping him navigate how he feels about the new living situation and the whole “half-demon” thing.

Now, though, feeling Tendou’s lips move on his at a slow yet longing pace, Semi wonders why they _hell_ have they not done this sooner? He places his hands at Tendou’s waist, kissing him back hungrily, slipping his tongue past the seam of his lips to taste him. Tendou’s fingers push up into his hair, gripping gently, and Semi realizes his hiccups are gone.

Tendou pulls away before Semi wants him to, and he’s embarrassed by the sound that escapes him, as their lips part. Tendou grins, bumping his forehead lightly against Semi’s.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that,” he says, fingers twirling around a strand of Semi’s hair.

“Are you going to waste time now talking about it?” Semi asks a bit breathlessly.

Tendou smirks. “Nope!” he exclaims, before kissing Semi again, moving closer to him as he does.

Semi moans into the kiss, returning it with fervor, as he lets one hand travel down Tendou’s skirt to slip underneath it, gripping the bare skin of his thigh. Okay, so maybe the maid outfit isn’t such an absurd thing after all. He’s enjoying it now, at least, especially when he reaches around to sink his fingers into Tendou’s ass, making the other laugh against his mouth.

“Do you want something, SemiSemi?” he teases.

Semi resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Don’t you?”

“Do I want to fuck you on the floor of our room while wearing a maid dress? Why, Eita! However did you know?”

Semi’s face burns; he tries to cover for it with a frown. “Do your fantasies usually involve you wearing a maid dress?”

Tendou’s grin shifts into a smirk. “No, sometimes you’re wearing it.”

“Absolutely fucking not. I’m not wearing that,” Semi says quickly, shaking his head.

Tendou cackles. “I never said you had to! There are a couple things I need to get, though, so wait right here.” He stands, and Semi mourns the loss of his warmth, watching as he heads for the door.

He returns only a few minutes later, still in the maid outfit, but this time carrying some condoms and a bottle of lube. Suddenly, the room’s temperature seems to skyrocket.

“Where the hell did you get those?” Semi asks, anxiety twisting in his stomach.

Tendou glances down at the objects in his hands. “These? From Wakatoshi’s room.” He tilts his head to the side. “We’ve already done it, you know. A few times.”

“_Already_?” Semi feels somewhat lightheaded. He’d kind of hoped that whenever he and Tendou crossed that line, they’d be equals in inexperience. Now he feels kind of like he’s lost, and he doesn’t like it.

Tendou blinks. “Was I supposed to tell you?”

“What? No. Of course not,” Semi says, shaking his head quickly. “I just . . .” He frowns at the condoms and lube, not entirely sure what he wants to say.

“Hey,” Tendou says, crouching down in front of him. “I’ve wanted this with you for forever. But Wakatoshi was ready, like, from the get-go. He saw it as more of a recreational thing, before. So when he got the urge, he asked if I wanted to. I did, but also . . . well, I kind of wanted to know my way around a bit before _we_ did it.” He gestures between them. “So I’d know what to do to make it good, you know?”

Semi’s face may be permanently in flames from now on. “Oh,” he says weakly.

Tendou sets the items down, reaching out to brush Semi’s hair back from his face with surprising tenderness. “Let me make it good for you, okay?”

“Sure,” Semi says softly, swallowing hard past the lump that’s formed in his throat.

Tendou smiles, genuinely, wrapping his hand around the back of Semi’s head, then, as he pulls him forward into another kiss. It’s gentle this time, and Semi’s chest aches as he returns it, moving his hand to cradle the side of Tendou’s face. He remembers Tendou’s strange mood earlier. He knows Tendou’s probably using this as a distraction, but he has a hard time caring at the moment. He’ll get him to talk later. For now, he grabs the front of Tendou’s apron, as he moves to lay on the floor and pulls Tendou on top of him, doing his best to not break the kiss.

Tendou straddles him once more, placing one hand on the floor to brace himself over Semi, while his other moves down Semi’s chest, pushing up underneath his shirt to caress his stomach and side. Semi arches into the warm touch, goosebumps prickling along his skin.

Tendou’s lips move from his to his cheek and down to his jaw and neck. He tugs on Semi’s shirt, so he sits up some, taking it off and tossing it aside. Tendou smiles before attacking him with his lips once more, placing kiss after kiss across his shoulder and clavicle and chest. Semi’s heart pounds rapidly, and he inhales sharply at the feel of Tendou’s tongue over his left nipple.

Somehow this seems a bit backwards. He’s supposed to be the one helping _Tendou_ feel better. Tendou’s lips move further down his torso, and his hand begins to unfasten Semi’s tactical pants, and he doesn’t want the sensation to stop, but the guilt makes him tap Tendou on the shoulder lightly.

“Hey,” he says roughly. “What about you?”

Tendou lifts his head, giving Semi a crooked grin. “Don’t worry about me, Eita,” he says his name softly, like he’s caressing it, and more heat floods to Semi’s face.

“I’m not going to make this all about me,” Semi says, shaking his head.

Tendou strokes his thumb along the line of Semi’s hipbone where it juts out slightly. “But I want it to be about you,” he says. “Eita, you _really_ don’t understand how long I’ve waited to touch you like this.”

Semi doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t feel deserving of all this worship, and his chest aches, as Tendou begins to tug his pants down. He lifts his hips, but reaches up to grab hold of Tendou’s hair, pulling him forward in order to kiss him firmly. “It’s about _both_ of us,” he says, then, gently knocking his forehead against Tendou’s.

“For sure,” Tendou says with another lopsided smile. “But I’m the one who’s going to fuck you, so I consider myself the lucky one right now.”

Semi falls back against the floor with a groan, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t get you. What makes _me_ so special? Did you do this to Ushijima too?” He glares through his fingers.

Tendou laughs. “Oh, I made him feel special too, don’t worry.” He sits back on his heels and looks thoughtfully at the wall. “But with him, it’s like . . . it’s admiration and awe and fascination and curiosity, a bit of nostalgia . . . and yeah I like him, I like him a lot. I’ll probably fall in love with him soon. I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway there.” He turns his gaze back onto Semi. “But with you . . . Eita, I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Semi’s eyes widen. His mind goes completely blank. Is that true? How could that be true? How had he not noticed Tendou’s feelings for _ten years_?

“You’re fucking with me,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

Tendou shakes his head, still grinning. “Nope! One hundred percent true. You were my first _real_ friend at the academy. You never treated me like a monster or someone to avoid, not once. That meant . . . the world to me. _You_ mean the world to me.”

Semi stares. “You’re serious,” he murmurs.

“Yep! Totally serious. So trust me, getting to kiss you, touch you, suck on you, fuck you . . . make you feel _good_ . . . it makes me really happy.” With that, he slips his hand into Semi’s underwear, wrapping his hand around his half-hard cock and giving it a gentle tug.

Semi gasps, as the faintest tingles of pleasure begin to spread through him. He bites his lip, deciding to stop arguing and just let Tendou do as he pleases. Isn’t that how it usually goes between them anyway? It’s a dynamic that works, and even if Semi doesn’t fully understand how Tendou can hold him in such high regard despite the fact he didn’t do anything that any other decent human being wouldn’t, he’s going to let Tendou do what makes him happy. It feels selfish, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe not with Tendou. (He’ll definitely return the favor the next time, though. He’s not about to lose with this, too.)

Tendou’s hand works on him slowly, as his lips dip down to brush against his stomach. Semi twitches, as it tickles a bit, and he can feel the heat building inside of him. He reaches down, brushing his fingers slowly through the wild red hair, knocking the maid headband further askew. His breath shivers in his chest, as Tendou tugs down his boxer-briefs, pulling him out, now fully erect.

“Shit,” Semi gasps, as Tendou licks along the side of him slowly. His fingers tremble, as he curls them further into Tendou’s hair. He presses the other hand against the floor next to him, pursing his lips tightly to keep a whimper from escaping, as Tendou’s tongue makes its way down the other side of his shaft before moving up to swirl around his tip. His lips wrap around it, then, suckling gently, and Semi can’t stifle the moan that sounds low in his throat at the sensation.

Tendou slides down, engulfing him in wet heat, and Semi shudders at the sharp pleasure that prickles down his thighs, curling his toes. Tendou’s hands come up, starting to work Semi’s legs out of his pants and boxer-briefs, even as his mouth remains encased around his cock, sucking slowly, leaning back just long enough to get rid of the rest of his clothes. Semi helps as best he can, panting heavily.

Sitting up on his elbows, he spreads his legs, allowing Tendou to nestle down between them. He watches, as Tendou’s lips once more descend upon him, moving up and down his shaft. Tendou’s cheeks are flushed now, his eyes closed as though he’s _relishing_ the taste of him.

“Fuck, fuck,” Semi mutters, grimacing, as his thighs start to tremble on either side of Tendou. He can already feel his climax building, and he sits up the rest of the way, nudging Tendou’s shoulder. “S-Satori. Y-you . . . I’m going to come if you keep that up.”

Tendou’s only response is a moan, and Semi shudders, curling inward some, as the pleasure rushes through him, hot and sharp. He grabs hold of Tendou’s head with both his hands, but he doesn’t pull him away. This is what Tendou wants too, isn’t it? His knees come up slightly, as the tension builds. Tendou pulls back just enough to lap at the pre-cum that’s dribbling out of Semi’s tip with his tongue, and that sight alone is almost enough to send him over.

“Shit, _Satori_,” he groans, carding his fingers back through Tendou’s hair.

Tendou finally looks up, licking his lips. “Mm, tasty,” he says with such a shit-eating grin, Semi glares back at him. He just cackles, moving to press his lips against Semi’s, which is kind of gross and kind of hot at the same time. Semi kisses him back hungrily, moving back down onto the floor and bringing Tendou with him.

He’s completely naked, now, and Tendou’s still wearing that stupid maid outfit. Moving his hands over the back of it, though, he can’t seem to find any fastenings to get it off. Tendou chuckles against his lips, leaning back to look down at the outfit.

“Oh. Yeah, that’s what I needed your help with. It doesn’t come off. Not unless I change back into my normal clothes.”

“Seriously?” Semi frowns up at him in exasperation.

Tendou grins, running his hand up and down Semi’s side. “I can still fuck you in the dress. And you look so pretty like this, SemiSemi. So open and vulnerable . . .”

His eyes roam over Semi’s body, causing him to shiver. His gaze is dark, full of lust and something else, something deeper, more meaningful. Semi’s chest aches. He’s never had anyone look at him that way before. It stirs something within him, and he leans up to kiss Tendou’s cheek lightly.

“I don’t mind being like this, then, if you like it,” he admits, cringing inwardly at the cheesiness of the statement, but when Tendou’s eyes light up he decides it’s worth it. “I’m still going to get you back, though. Next time _you’ll_ be the naked one.”

Tendou laughs. “Sounds like fun,” he says, kissing Semi’s forehead before sitting back and reaching for the lube.

Semi feels his gut clench with anxiety once more. Tendou must catch his look, because he rubs the side of his knee reassuringly. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”

Semi nods, doing his best to relax, as Tendou lifts one of his legs, setting it over his arm, as he reaches beneath him and begins to rub two slick fingers against his entrance. Semi does his best to keep breathing normally and not tense up. He looks down at Tendou, flushed with his hair sticking up every which way, the ridiculous maid dress suddenly not looking so bad on him. Semi doesn’t try to unpack _that_ realization.

Then his fingers sink into him, slowly, and Semi tenses despite himself.

“Shh, shh.” Tendou massages his thigh, moving his free hand up and down his leg in soothing motions, as he carefully works his fingers in deeper.

“Shit, fuck,” Semi grimaces, hands clenching into fists. The intrusion is unfamiliar and the stretch stings. True to his word, though, Tendou doesn’t rush this. He lifts Semi’s leg higher onto his shoulder, turning his head to kiss his calf, the inside of his knee, his inner thigh, as his fingers begin to thrust shallowly. The mix of sensations make Semi somewhat lightheaded, and he leans his head back against the floorboards, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves with each breath.

“You’re so beautiful, Eita,” Tendou breathes into his skin.

Semi covers his face again with his hands, groaning. He doesn’t know how Tendou can say such things so casually, and he feels the heat building within him once more. Tendou’s fingers are gentle but thorough, pressing in and out, shallow at first and then deeper, working their way into a rhythm that stretches Semi gradually, until he can add a third finger. Semi hisses softly at the sting, and then Tendou repeats the same gestures, lips moving up and down the side of his leg, this time with a couple licks and bites as well.

The pain dulls to an ache, and Semi gets used to the feel of penetration, rocking his hips up into the thrusts of Tendou’s fingers once it starts feeling good. Tendou chooses that moment to pull away, though, leaving Semi wanting for more, and he moans in protest.

“This is the fun part,” Tendou assures him, gathering his skirt up around his waist.

Semi realizes he’s gotten rid of his underwear at some point and his flushed cock is hard and erect, visibly weeping pre-cum down the sides. He catches himself staring, his face growing hot and more heat traveling south, as well. Tendou was that affected by his reactions to him? Shit.

Tendou slides on a condom, grunting softly at the touch, and then he’s coating himself with lube and crawling over Semi to kiss him, hard. Semi wraps his arms around his neck, returning the kiss, even as Tendou reaches down to lift his ass off the floor, settling between his thighs and lining himself up.

He pushes in slowly, but Semi still breaks the kiss with a small cry. It feels different than Tendou’s fingers, fuller, somehow. The pressure grows, the more he fills Semi, and Semi sucks in each breath deeply, trembling, as he wraps his legs around Tendou as best he can.

“Fuck, fuck.”

“Mmm,” Tendou moans against his ear, as he shifts on his knees, leaning forward over him, setting his hands on the floor and adjusting into a good position. “Eita-kun . . . you’re so _tight_.” He nips at Semi’s earlobe lightly. “You feel so good. My cock feels so good inside of you.”

“Fucking _hell_,” Semi gripes, burying his flaming face in the ruffles on Tendou’s shoulder, as the other snickers.

Then he starts to move, slow, shallow thrusts at first, but they’re steady and with purpose. Semi grimaces, the heat rushing through him once more, tingling, burning. Tendou doesn’t waste much time getting up to a good rhythm, thrusting deeper with each push, groaning into Semi’s ear.

“Oh, Eita, Eita. You feel so good. So good. You’re so hot.”

“Shut _up_,” Semi hisses, pretty sure he can’t take much more of this. He’s trembling, already having gotten close to the edge earlier, and all that pleasure is rushing back, sharp and electrifying.

Tendou moves faster, harder, grunting at the effort. The ruffles of his skirt move against Semi’s sensitive cock, which feels strange but not unpleasant. The light brush of it is more of a tease than anything, though, but before he can move his hand down to make faster work of it, Tendou shifts his position just slightly and shoves up against his prostate.

“Holy shit! Fuck!” Semi yelps, and he resents Tendou for cackling in his ear.

“Mm, did that feel good, Eita-kun?” he asks around a breathless laugh, ramming up against the spot again.

“Shit, fuck, fuck you,” Semi gasps, the pleasure making him dizzy. It’s so much brighter and stronger than before, sparking through him like fireworks in his veins. “Shit, don’t stop.”

“Not planning on it,” Tendou laughs again, before focusing on his thrusts. He goes hard and fast, moaning into Semi’s hair, one hand moving down to grip his ass. Semi’s scramble for purchase on the back of the dress, tearing the material some once he gets his nails in.

He can feel his climax building, rushing forward like a bullet train. His head falls back, as he cries out, small aborted sounds in tandem with Tendou’s thrusts that don’t sound like him at all, but he’s too far gone to care, now. He’s tilting, falling, or maybe rising, and when Tendou gives a particularly good thrust against his prostate, he reaches it, the apex.

The pleasure crests over him, and he cries out once more, clutching Tendou as he trembles, and feels his cock _throb_, spilling hot strands of liquid into Tendou’s skirt and his own stomach. He’s gotten himself off before but nothing, _nothing_ ever felt like this. He hears Tendou’s breath catch in his throat, and then he’s stiffening as well, muffling a low moan in Semi’s hair.

Together, they slowly relax. Semi against the floor, and Tendou on top of him. They fight to catch their breaths, neither saying anything at first. Then Tendou pushes himself up on shaking arms, pulling out and sitting back on his heels. Semi remains where he lies, one hand resting on his chest.

He hears Tendou’s throaty chuckle from somewhere to his right, and the floorboards shudder, as he drops down beside him.

“You got cum on my dress, Eita,” he admonishes lightly.

“Should’ve taken it off then,” Semi says, not at all apologetic.

Tendou mutters a spell, and Semi feels the warm pulse of magic beside him. He turns his head to see Tendou once more in the clothes he was wearing earlier, though they’re rumpled, and the shirt is stained. Tendou peels it off, kicking off his pants a moment later. He’s sans underwear, and he turns onto his side, lifting his arm up in the air in presentation.

“Better?” he asks with a grin.

Semi’s still flushed from the sex, but he feels his face grow somehow _warmer_. He turns his gaze back onto the ceiling with a cough. “Sure.”

Tendou snickers, moving close enough to wrap his arm around Semi’s waist. He lets him, adjusting so they fit better against each other, one arm wrapped around Tendou’s shoulders. He runs his fingers up and down Tendou’s arm lightly, biting his lip after a moment.

“So . . . did it live up to expectations?” he asks hesitantly, remembering what Tendou said about wanting to do this for years.

“Mmm, it was better,” Tendou says, kissing his chest lightly.

Semi fights a smile, glad for that, at least. He turns his face to press his lips lightly against the top of Tendou’s head. “You going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Not anymore.”

Semi sighs but decides to leave it. Tendou _does_ seem happier, and that’s the most important thing. He’ll grill him later, but for now he strokes his arm and feels the beat of his heart against his side, matching pace with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

Semi’s heart flutters inside his chest, beating an erratic tattoo against his ribs. He’s on his back against the bed, the warm body of Shirabu on top of him. His fingernails dig into Semi’s wrists, as he presses them down into the pillows on either side of his head. Semi can feel the frantic pace of the other’s heart, matching his own, as Shirabu’s tongue tangles with his in a passionate kiss. Semi pants softly against Shirabu’s lips, flushed from head to toe. They’ve stripped down to their underwear, and he can feel the hard bulge of Shirabu’s erection against his thigh.

Shifting his leg, Semi presses up against it, just slightly, and smiles at the moan it pulls from Shirabu’s throat. Then there’s a rush of cold air, as Shirabu releases him and sits back. His chest heaves with each shaky inhale, and Semi frowns, as Shirabu moves off of him to kneel on the sheets instead, hands curled into fists on his thighs.

“Are you okay?” Semi asks breathlessly, sitting up on his elbows.

Shirabu’s head tilts down, obscuring his expression behind his tussled hair. His shoulders tremble, and worry fills Semi, as he sits up the rest of the way.

“Hey, it’s okay if . . . you’re not ready. We don’t have to do this,” he says as gently as he can. His body screams at him to not take Shirabu’s hesitation so seriously, but there’s no way he’s going to let this continue if Shirabu isn’t completely sure it’s what he wants.

It seemed that way earlier, when Shirabu grabbed Semi’s wrist with a tight frown of determination, pulling him into the bedroom without a word, his ears bright pink as Tendou’s loud whistle followed them. He immediately jumped Semi as soon as the bedroom door was closed, attacking him with kisses that Semi returned, surprised but willing. It wasn’t as though Semi hadn’t been thinking about it for a while now; he’d just been waiting for Shirabu to indicate he wanted it.

Now he’s hesitating, and Semi feels like he should’ve checked in earlier. He grimaces. _Stupid. You’re the elder one, here. Act like it._

“If you’re scared—”

Shirabu’s head flies up, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not _scared_,” he snaps.

Semi holds his hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says quickly, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “I just meant . . . if you’re worried about anything or . . . have any questions . . . you can talk to me. You know you can.”

Shirabu turns his face away. “You’ve . . . done this before, right?”

Semi can’t see his expression, and he’s keeping his voice carefully controlled so Semi can’t read that either. He doesn’t think there’s any jealousy there, though. Through their bond, he doesn’t feel any malice or anger. Shirabu told him he could still have Tendou, and he’s been true to his word on that, never saying anything to make Semi feel as though he shouldn’t be with the other when he wants to be. But . . . does knowing he’s been with Tendou change how he feels about this aspect of their relationship?

“Yes,” Semi answers truthfully, knowing Shirabu already knows that anyway.

“So, you know what to do.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, kind of. Tendou was my first,” Semi admits. “If it makes you feel any better,” he adds, “I was pretty nervous.”

Shirabu peers back at Semi curiously. “You were?”

“Are you kidding?” Semi laughs ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had no idea what I was doing. And Tendou only knew because he’d been with Ushijima already. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one of us who’d _actually_ had sex before we all moved in here, if you can believe that.” He shakes his head.

Shirabu purses his lips. “I looked up some stuff,” he admits. “For research.”

Semi snorts softly, unable to help it. “Research. Of course you did.”

“Shut up,” Shirabu says, his cheeks growing red again. “I wanted to know what to do.”

“You’re overthinking it.” Semi reaches forward, brushing Shirabu’s hair back from his face gently, allowing his hand to linger when Shirabu leans into the touch slightly. “Just go on instinct. What feels good. You know I won’t hurt you. If you want to stop, at any moment, we will.”

Shirabu squints. “You really mean that,” he realizes.

“Of course I do,” Semi says, stroking his thumb along Shirabu’s cheekbone. “I care about you.”

Shirabu studies him, eyes searching Semi’s expression. For what, Semi doesn’t know, but he waits patiently, moving his fingers back through Shirabu’s hair to massage his scalp gently. If the kid can just relax, everything will be fine. Shirabu’s chest shudders, as he exhales slowly.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” Semi raises an eyebrow.

“I’m ready.”

Semi laughs softly, pulling Shirabu closer to kiss him. Shirabu doesn’t resist and presses his lips back against Semi’s with a tiny sound of what seems like relief. Semi bites back a smile, wrapping his arm around Shirabu’s shoulders and falling back against the pillows, bringing him down to lay on top of him like before. He allows Shirabu to set the pace, not resisting when Shirabu tugs his arm off him to set it aside.

His lips travel over Semi’s neck, down to his shoulder. Semi closes his eyes, his heart quickening its pace once more. It takes everything in him to keep his hands firmly planted against the sheets, as Shirabu’s lips find purchase on a soft spot on his neck, sucking slowly at first, then hard and fast. Biting his lip, Semi stifles a moan at the sensation.

Shirabu’s hand lays flat against Semi’s stomach before shifting down. Any trepidation seems to have disappeared, as he pushes his hand past the waistband of Semi’s boxer-briefs and takes hold of the half-hard shaft.

“Shit,” Semi gasps instinctively, grimacing at the pleasure that tingles through him, as Shirabu slowly trails his thumb over his tip.

“Does this feel good?” Shirabu murmurs against his neck, lifting his head then to look down into Semi’s face. His cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and pink, and Semi swallows hard against the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, yeah, it does,” he assures him, laughing a bit breathlessly, then. “Not really that shy after all, are you?”

Shirabu’s brows furrow, and he twists his hand sharply around Semi’s erection, causing him to yelp, hips jerking off the bed.

“You little . . . bastard,” Semi manages through gritted teeth, his entire body _throbbing_.

Shirabu’s lips twitch in a faint smirk. “How about that?” he asks, eyes widening in an innocent expression that greatly contrasts with the way he’s now loosely tugging and stroking Semi’s cock.

Semi grits his teeth, wanting to grab Shirabu and flip him over onto the mattress, see how _he_ likes being toyed with. But he keeps his fingers curled into the sheets, not about to touch Shirabu like that unless he initiates it. He still has an aversion to being touched, tolerating it from Goshiki and Semi more than anyone else, but everything has to be on his terms, when he allows it. Semi has no problem with that, usually. It’s only right now that he finds it trying his patience.

“It . . . feels good,” he assures Shirabu, panting softly, pleasure tingling down his thighs and up his abdomen with each pull of Shirabu’s hand, each drag of his thumb across his tip, which has started leaking pre-cum. He tilts his hips up toward the sensation, aching for more friction, but Shirabu pulls his hand away, leaving Semi arching into nothing.

“Shit,” he mutters, dropping back onto the mattress, as Shirabu turns toward the other side of the bed.

When he turns back, he’s holding a bottle of lube and a condom. His throat constricts, as he looks down at the objects, and once more Semi sees the flash of uncertainty cross his features.

“Do you want to top?” Semi asks, trying to get his breathing under control. He bottoms for Tendou, so he’s not opposed to it. He wants Shirabu to get the best possible experience out of this, so he’s willing to remain in that position, even if his fantasies usually involve him fucking Shirabu in his tight, perky ass.

To his surprise, Shirabu shakes his head. “I want . . .” He pauses, glancing from the bottle to the tent in Semi’s boxer-briefs, his expression turning thoughtful. “I want to ride you.”

Semi blinks. “O-oh,” he says, wondering if Shirabu realizes what that would entail. “You . . . know you have to prepare yourself for something like that, right?”

Shirabu nods slowly before holding the bottle of lube out to Semi. “I want you to do it.”

“Me?” Semi asks, taking the bottle. “Are you sure?” That will involve much more contact than they’ve had so far, at least on Semi’s end.

But Shirabu’s already laying down, shimmying out of his boxer-briefs to toss them aside. “I’m sure,” he says with a nod.

Semi’s heart pounds in his throat. He sits up slowly, looking down at Shirabu laying out beside him. Completely naked like this . . . he looks more vulnerable, somehow, and Semi’s almost afraid to touch him. There’s a bruise on his hip that must be from a recent hunt, and Semi’s fingers reach out instinctively to brush against it.

“When did this happen?”

“Does it matter?”

Semi glances up at Shirabu’s face to find him frowning back at him. 

“Are you going to prep me or not?” he asks impatiently.

“Don’t be rude,” Semi says, rolling his eyes. He reaches up to flick Shirabu gently on the forehead. “Let me be concerned about you for once.”

“It’s nothing,” Shirabu insists, rubbing the spot. “You worry too much.”

“Yes, well, you tend to give me cause for it,” Semi sighs, moving to kneel between Shirabu’s legs, gently nudging his thighs apart. He tries not to stare at the flushed pink cock that’s hard and erect against Shirabu’s abdomen, turning his gaze onto Shirabu’s face. “Can I touch you?”

“You don’t have to ask me that,” Shirabu says, his cheeks growing a darker red, as he looks away.

“Yes, I do,” Semi answers with a frown. “Consent is important. I know you know that. You hate it when people touch you without it.”

“No, I know, I meant . . .” Shirabu folds his arms over his face to hide it. “_You_ don’t have to ask me that.” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and Semi’s chest aches. 

“That’s sweet.” He can’t help but grin, rubbing his hands slowly up and down Shirabu’s thighs, watching the way they quiver under his palms.

“Get on with it already,” Shirabu mutters.

Semi bites back a laugh, pulling back to squeeze some lube out onto his fingers. He rubs them together for a moment, before setting the bottle to the side and shifting forward, further between Shirabu’s legs, as he takes one and sets it over his shoulder, giving him better access, as he gently massages Shirabu’s entrance.

Shirabu’s breath hitches, his hands curling into fists. Reaching forward with his other hand, Semi takes hold of Shirabu’s shaft gently, starting to tug slowly, as he works his finger into Shirabu. The whimper that sounds from Shirabu goes straight to Semi’s own erection, and it twitches in response. Gritting his teeth, Semi attempts to concentrate on what he’s doing. He presses his finger all the way inside of Shirabu, continuing to pull and stroke his warm cock, using that to distract from the pain of the stretch as best he can.

Shirabu’s breathing hard, now, his chest rising and falling quickly, and Semi takes his time with including a second and third finger, carefully stretching Shirabu over the next few minutes, the sound of his gasps and whimpers making him ache all over. He stops with his ministrations on Shirabu’s member once pre-cum starts dribbling from the tip, not wanting him to lose it too soon. Shirabu doesn’t like this, arching his hips into his hand, but Semi simply holds him, as he thrusts his fingers in and out of Shirabu with quick, shallow movements.

“Fuck, _fuck_,” Shirabu gasps, sweat starting to bead on his forehead, sticking strands of his hair to his face.

“How are you doing?” Semi asks with a faint grin.

Shirabu lowers his arms and _glares_ down the length of his body, an expression that sends a jolt of excitement down Semi’s spine, tingling through his limbs.

“You good?” Semi asks, pulling his fingers out completely.

Almost immediately, Shirabu’s on top of him, gripping his shoulders so tightly his nails dig into the skin, as he shoves Semi down onto the mattress and kisses him hungrily. Semi wraps his arms around Shirabu, holding him close, glad there doesn’t seem to be any reason to go slow, now. Shirabu’s tongue pushes past his lips, and the two of them moan in tandem, as Shirabu’s body presses close against his.

Semi inhales sharply, as he feels Shirabu’s teeth dig into his lower lip, and then he’s pulling away, grabbing the condom left on the bed and tearing it open. He rolls it down over Semi’s length, causing Semi to hiss at the touch after being neglected for so long. Shirabu grabs the lube next, his neck and shoulders flushed pink, as he coats his hand and wraps it around Semi, transferring the substance onto him.

“Shit,” Semi gasps, as Shirabu takes a moment to pull on him a few times, before lifting his leg to straddle him. “Okay, okay, careful,” he manages to say, taking hold of Shirabu’s hips to keep him from lowering too quickly.

Shirabu frowns back at him, lining himself up, before shoving down quickly, causing them both to cry out. Semi tightens his grip on Shirabu’s hips instinctively, the sudden heat and pressure causing his vision to nearly white out. He’s tight, he’s so _tight_ and hot and the lube made the connection seamless, and Semi’s _throbbing_ inside of him, though maybe that’s Shirabu’s own heartbeat he feels thrumming against his cock.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Shirabu gasps out, grimacing, his knuckles nearly white, as he curls his fingers around Semi’s arms.

“I _told_ you to be careful!” Semi pants, his legs quivering, as Shirabu continues to sit there, not moving.

“Shut up,” Shirabu grinds out through clenched teeth. His nails dig into Semi’s forearms, but Semi doesn’t shake them off, simply waits, breathless, heart pounding loudly in his ears.

Semi’s not sure how long they stay there, him on his back with Shirabu straddling him, catching his breath, trying to relax around the intrusion, but just when it’s getting too much to bear, Shirabu starts to move. Just tiny undulations, at first, his hips barely moving. Semi can feel the slight change in pressure, though, and he moans at the pleasure that sparks through him with each shift.

Shirabu moves his hands to plant them on Semi’s chest, curling against his pectorals, as he presses down, using the surface for leverage, as he rocks his hips forward and back in a slow, experimental rhythm.

“You okay?” Semi asks once he can think clearly enough.

Shirabu only nods, his eyes shut tightly. His arms tremble, and a whimper escapes his pursed lips, as he begins to move faster. Semi feels the pressure change, as he slides halfway out of Shirabu before sinking back in. He tries to move his hips in a way that syncs up with Shirabu’s movement, thrusting upwards into him as best he can, gasping as the pleasure grows.

“Eita,” Shirabu whines, panting as his hips jerk back and forth, quickly now, his head falling back some, as the pleasure seems to register with him, as well.

“I’m right here, right here,” Semi breathes, grabbing one of Shirabu’s hands to lace their fingers together. Shirabu grips back so tightly Semi’s pretty sure he’s cutting off their circulation, but he doesn’t say anything now, only holds on firmly, leaning his head back against the mattress and squeezing his eyes shut.

It feels so good. So _good_. Shirabu’s ass is just as Semi imagined it would be. Heat encased around him, squeezing, moving, the friction sending pleasure like electricity through every nerve ending, crackling up through every limb, making his blood boil.

“Ha, ha, you feel . . . shit, so _fucking_ good, Kenjirou.” He can barely get the words out, but he has to say them.

Shirabu only whimpers in response, moaning softly as his hips thrust forward and back, rocking hard and fast. His skin burns against Semi’s, and he opens his eyes to see what Shirabu looks like. He watches the hair flutter against Shirabu’s forehead. His lips are parted, glistening pink, as he gasps for breath. His entire body is flushed, and there’s pre-cum dripping from his cock, as it rubs slightly against Semi’s stomach, trailing the sticky liquid across it.

Semi moves his hand down, wrapping it around that wet cock, and he feels as well as sees the tremor that goes through Shirabu at the touch. He cries out, as Semi starts to tug on him, quick, even strokes.

“I-I can’t—can’t,” he gasps, ducking his head. “_E-Eita_.”

His quivers on top of him, and Semi swallows hard. His entire body is on fire. He knows neither of them will last long, especially Shirabu. He tilts his head back and notices that the room has grown darker, shadows lengthening from each corner of the room. Turning his gaze back onto Shirabu, he sees how much he’s trembling, his hips starting to fall out of rhythm, as his movements become desperate.

“Eita, Eita, Eita,” he babbles, voice strained, thin. 

He’s so close to unraveling, and Semi watches, wide-eyed. His hand pauses, as the skin on Shirabu’s shoulders seem to ripple toward his back. Goosebumps appear, and Semi’s jaw goes slack in shock, as two black feathery wings suddenly emerge from Shirabu’s shoulder blades. They’re about the size of Shirabu’s torso, and they stretch out on either side of him, shuddering as Shirabu’s body does the same.

“Holy shit,” Semi gasps, wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him in the middle of his ecstasy.

Shirabu clenches around him, and the pleasure jolts Semi’s attention back to it. It’s rushing through him, leaving flames of heat in its wake, and Semi can feel his own body starting to quiver, as Shirabu stiffens above him and cries out, spilling out over Semi’s hand. The wings flutter in tandem, before folding in against Shirabu’s back.

Semi stares, panting, until Shirabu rocks a couple more times, half-hearted but seeming determined to make sure Semi finishes too. The continued friction does its job, and Semi closes his eyes, head falling back against the sheets, as he allows the pleasure to crash over him in his climax, heat tingling through every vein. He sags into the mattress, as Shirabu comes to a stop. He flops down onto Semi’s chest, panting hot breath against his flushed skin.

It takes a few seconds for Semi to catch his bearings enough to open his eyes and look down. There’s nothing but smooth skin along Shirabu’s back, and when he extracts his hand from Shirabu’s to run his fingers against the other’s shoulder blades, he feels nothing out of the ordinary.

“Weird,” he murmurs.

Shirabu lifts his head with a frown. “Weird?” he repeats, blinking down at Semi with the barest hint of hurt.

“No, that’s not—” Semi shakes his head quickly. “That was good, it was good. You were . . . so hot.” He assures Shirabu with a faint grin, brushing his knuckle across Shirabu’s cheek. “It’s just . . . you had wings . . . at the end, there.”

Shirabu frowns in confusion, glancing over his shoulder. “What?”

“They’re not there now . . . I don’t know if I was just seeing things but . . . yeah, you had wings. Black feathered ones.”

Shirabu sits up slowly, reaching behind him to feel his shoulder blades. He grunts softly, then, moving off Semi and throwing himself down on the mattress beside him, flinging his arm over his face as he continues to catch his breath. Semi squeezes his eyes shut, counting to ten before opening them again. Sitting up, he carefully pulls off the condom, tying it off and chucking it toward the wastebasket. Turning toward Shirabu, then, he looks down at him.

“Are you okay?” he asks hopefully.

Shirabu nods, his face still hidden behind his arm. Semi smiles, bending to kiss his elbow lightly.

“You’re going to feel that tomorrow, so take it easy.”

“Whatever.”

“I mean it, Shirabu. You really should’ve taken it slower.”

“I didn’t want to.” Shirabu moves his arm away from his face, letting it fall to the mattress above his head. He smirks faintly up at Semi. “You didn’t want me to, either.”

Semi coughs and looks away. “Doesn’t matter. Next time, go slower.”

Shirabu turns onto his side, curling into Semi with a small grin curling his lips, as he presses his sweaty forehead against Semi’s hip. “Mm, I’ll do whatever I want, thanks.”

“So annoying,” Semi says fondly, stroking his clean fingers through Shirabu’s hair. 

He can feel the warmth still radiating off of him, and it matches the warmth he feels resonating in his chest. He wonders if that has anything to do with their bond. Concentrating on it, he smiles when he feels only contentment and affection coming from Shirabu’s aura. He returns the sentiment, lying back down to wrap his arm around Shirabu and hold him close. They really need to shower, and a bath sounds amazing right now, too, but it’s so rare that Shirabu allows cuddling, Semi decides those things can wait a bit longer. He’s going to appreciate every moment of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

Goshiki’s hands tremble. He curls them into fists, watching as Shirabu shuts the door and then locks it after a moment’s consideration. Goshiki can feel his heart thudding rapidly inside his chest, and his heels tap against the side of the bed, as he swings his legs back and forth quickly.

He kind of feels like throwing up, but he gets the feeling that would be a _bad_ start to this. Shirabu turns from the door and looks at him, chewing on his lip. Already Goshiki can feel a flush of heat rising up his face. Shirabu’s eyes fall to Goshiki’s bouncing legs, and he stops moving them.

“Sorry! I’m just nervous. But excited! I’m definitely excited,” Goshiki rushes to assure him, not entirely sure what Shirabu’s thinking, standing there just watching him. “Um!” His voice squeaks, and he inwardly berates himself for it.

_Stop acting like a kid! Shirabu isn’t going to want to do this with you anymore if you spaz out!_

That’s easier said than done, unfortunately. He’s brimming with anticipation, the energy crawling beneath his skin. He feels the urge to run or yell or both, but he can’t, so he just sits there on the edge of the bed, trembling.

“I want to do this,” he continues. Shirabu’s still not doing or saying anything, and Goshiki fears he’s thinking about backing out. “I really, really do. I’ve been thinking about it a lot! Like, ever since Shiratorizawa . . .”

He swallows hard, thinking of those dreams and fantasies. He kind of can’t believe they’re coming true now, and he’s desperate to not let the chance slip through his fingers. Shirabu’s already made them wait until his twentieth birthday (he’s still not sure _why_, seeing as Shirabu and Semi didn’t seem to waste much time being together), and while the bedtime cuddles, hand holding, and make-out sessions are fun and nice, he’s been _starving_ for more. He’s pretty sure if he has to wait any longer, he’s going to explode.

“So, um, do you want me to like . . . lie down or?” Goshiki can’t stand this silence. Nothing’s happening, and he wants to scream.

“Stop talking,” Shirabu says, finally.

Goshiki shuts his mouth, pursing his lips together tightly, a soft whine escaping as he stifles a scream, just a tiny one.

Shirabu continues to stand by the door, his hands flexing absently at his sides. He hides them behind his back, but not before Goshiki sees. He tilts his head. Could _Shirabu_ be nervous too? But he’s done this before! So many times! Goshiki’s even heard him during a couple (he _wasn’t_ spying. He just . . . happened to be outside the door when Semi and Shirabu were together). There’s no way he could be nervous!

Goshiki watches, as Shirabu inhales deeply. He feels a gentle nudge against his chest, one that he’s come to recognize. He moves with it obediently, allowing Shirabu to push him back with his magic, as he steps forward toward the bed. He stops when he gets to the edge of it, and Goshiki’s pressed up against the wall. Goshiki bites his lip, not sure if he can say anything yet or not.

“I . . . don’t have as much control over my demon magic when I’m having sex,” Shirabu says finally, lifting his gaze from the covers of the bed to look at Goshiki from under his eyelashes. “Apparently . . . shadows start moving and I . . . have wings.”

Goshiki’s eyes widen. “You have _wings_?!” he exclaims before he can stop himself. “Where?! How?! Can I see?!” He lurches forward without thinking, and Shirabu takes a step back. Goshiki freezes in place, remembering. He sits on his heels, hands clenched on his thighs, as he stares at Shirabu. “What do they look like? Can you fly with them? Do they hurt when they come out?”

Shirabu’s face grows red, as Goshiki fires off his questions. “I can’t just . . . bring them out!” he snaps, hands lifting in the air helplessly. “It just _happens_. I haven’t even seen them myself. I don’t know how it works.” He frowns, obviously frustrated by this fact. “I just . . . wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t freak out if it happens.”

Goshiki shakes his head quickly. “I won’t! I promise I won’t.” He taps his knuckles against his thighs. “So, um, can we . . . do it now?”

Shirabu rolls his eyes, but he climbs up onto the bed, and Goshiki feels the nudge again. He moves back against the wall, holding his hands up, letting Shirabu come to him. It’s something that Goshiki had to learn early on: he’s not allowed to touch until Shirabu tells him he can. He’s pretty sure Shirabu knows Goshiki would never hurt him, at least not _intentionally_, but he also knows enough of Shirabu’s past now to understand his aversion to people touching him before he’s ready for it.

It’s _really_ hard to be patient sometimes, though. Especially at a time like this. The last thing Goshiki wants is for Shirabu to call the whole thing off, though. So, he’ll be good. He wants Shirabu to feel comfortable with him, to trust him. He feels like he does, on some level, but he also knows that this is a big step toward that trust going further and deeper than before.

He really, really, _really_ hopes he doesn’t screw it up.

There’s a tug on the edge of his shirt. He glances down, as the hem starts to roll up.

“Oh! Should I take off—”

“No.”

Goshiki stops reaching for the hem of his shirt, glancing up at Shirabu curiously. Shirabu’s cheeks are pink, and Goshiki suddenly realizes what he’s doing.

“Oh!” he says with a breathy laugh, lifting his arms dutifully, as Shirabu uses his Silent Magic to pull Goshiki’s shirt off over his head, tossing it across the room. Goshiki’s pretty proud of his body. He works out and goes on runs with Ushijima, so he’s getting pretty strong physically (on top of strengthening his magic). He’s pretty sure he’s killed, like, a hundred demons by now, too. Maybe even _two_ hundred.

He flexes for Shirabu’s benefit. “Do you like my muscles? They’ve gotten pretty big, huh?” He’s nowhere near Ushijima’s girth, but he’s not a lanky kid anymore, that’s for sure!

Shirabu’s cheeks grow darker. “They’re not _that_ big,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Goshiki pokes out his lower lip, but before he can protest, he feels a tug at his waistband, and suddenly he can feel _his_ face getting red. Shirabu’s still fully dressed, but Goshiki lifts his hips without protest, allowing Shirabu to remove his pants next. They go flying across the room to land on top of his shirt. He watches them go, and when he turns his gaze back to Shirabu, the other is suddenly kneeling directly beside him on the bed. His breath catches in his throat, as Shirabu leans forward, teeth chewing gently on his lower lip.

Goshiki swallows hard, not entirely sure what to do. Does Shirabu want to kiss him? Should he lean in? But, no, Shirabu hasn’t said he can touch yet. His fingers curl into fists as they hang in the air, and then they’re flying back against the wall. He winces, as his knuckles knock against the wood, but he forgets all about the sting of that when Shirabu straddles his lap.

“Oh, um, hi!” Goshiki says, his heart racing. He can’t move his arms. They’re pinned against the wall on either side of him by Shirabu’s magic. All he can do is tremble, as Shirabu slowly runs a finger down the center of his chest, following its progress with his eyes.

Goshiki’s already sweating. He can’t help it. The temperature in the room has spiked, and he shivers at the feel of Shirabu’s clothed thighs on either side of his bare ones, the trail of heat that Shirabu’s finger leaves in its wake. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat, as Shirabu leans forward and lightly kisses the side of Goshiki’s neck.

He squeaks. It’s horribly embarrassing, and he tries to suppress it. He feels Shirabu’s lips curl some against his skin, and then there’s the scrape of teeth and a tiny wet lick against his jugular. Goshiki sets the back of his head against the wall, each breath labored, as Shirabu’s mouth continues this torture down the length of his neck to his shoulder.

“_Shirabu_,” he whines softly, trying to move his arms again. “I want to touch you too!”

“Not yet,” Shirabu says, shaking his head.

He keeps his gaze lowered, as he leans back and pulls his shirt off, arms crossed in front of him. Goshiki’s hit with the sudden realization that maybe Shirabu’s not letting him touch not because of past trauma but because he’s _messing_ with him.

“That’s not fair,” he complains.

Shirabu smirks, tossing his shirt aside. “You need to learn to be more patient,” he says, fingers now spreading across Goshiki’s abdomen. The muscles twitch under his touch, as more heat pools there and spreads further south.

“I’m being patient! I’ve gotten really good at it!” Goshiki insists, twisting his hips some, as the material of his boxer-briefs begin to tent.

“I know,” Shirabu acknowledges, at least. He inhales sharply, lifting his gaze to meet Goshiki’s. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but then he simply wraps his hand around the back of Goshiki’s neck, drawing him forward into a kiss.

Goshiki returns it eagerly, pressing into it as best he can when pinned against the wall. He loves kissing! Kissing is fun, especially when it’s with Shirabu. He’s figured out the best ways to use his tongue and teeth to draw out the most amazing sounds from him. Sounds he knows Shirabu wouldn’t be caught dead making in front of anyone else (except maybe Semi). He uses that knowledge to his advantage now, since he can’t do much else.

He nibbles gently on Shirabu’s lower lip, tugging some in order to get his mouth open. Then he licks inside, slow and careful, trailing his tongue along Shirabu’s, caressing it, until he feels the hitch in Shirabu’s breath, the tiny whine for more. Goshiki has to fight a grin, licking along the underside of Shirabu’s upper lip, before pulling back to breathe.

Shirabu’s face is flushed, lips a nice, rosy pink, and Goshiki grins now, happy to have made Shirabu look like that.

“You’re so pretty, Shirabu-san.”

Shirabu blinks, his eyes widening briefly. He moves off of Goshiki, which is disappointing, but then Goshiki realizes he’s removing his pants. He tries not to stare, but it’s not like he can do much else at the moment. That’s what he thinks, at least, but then his boxer-briefs are flying off him, and he’s abruptly tugged down onto the mattress. He yelps softly, as his head hits the pillow, and the stark white ceiling fills his vision. When he tries to sit up, he finds he still can’t move his arms, so he drops his head back down with a sigh.

There’s the sound of rummaging and the crinkle of something plastic. Then Shirabu’s straddling him again, this time completely naked. Goshiki trembles, his heart leaping in his chest, as Shirabu’s hand rests lightly on his chest.

“I’m going to top you,” he says matter-a-factly, like he didn’t just make Goshiki’s erection twitch.

He’s so _hard_. He can feel it, all the blood simmering down there, throbbing. He squirms some underneath Shirabu, but the other doesn’t move or try to touch him anywhere else. A soft whine climbs up Goshiki’s throat.

“What are you waiting for then?” he asks, tired of being teased.

Shirabu rolls his eyes. “I have to prep you first. Otherwise it’s just going to hurt.”

Goshiki nods rapidly. “Yes, yes, okay do that, then,” he says. He knows how sex works. Tendou and Semi gave him “The Talk” ages ago, and he’s looked up porn before. It sounded and looked painful at the time, but now, with every nerve ending firing heat up and down his body, he just wants it to happen already!

Shirabu purses his lips, leaning down to kiss him again, gentler than before. Goshiki returns it, feeling Shirabu’s own desire, now, pressed up against his hip. He grinds up against it, needing some friction already, and the drag of their cocks against each other’s skin causes them both to shudder with a moan. Pleasure tingles through Goshiki at the sensation, and he wishes he could hold Shirabu closer. He rolls his hips again, inhaling sharply, and he feels Shirabu’s hand against his waist, pressing him down into the mattress, trying to still his movement.

“Shirabuuuuu,” he whines.

“I don’t want you to lose it too soon.”

“I’m not going to lose it at all at this rate!”

Shirabu huffs, sitting back to frown down at him. “I’m serious, Goshiki. You’ve never done this before. I want to do this right.”

Goshiki blinks up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks breathlessly.

Shirabu looks away, and Goshiki just now notices the way his chest is heaving. Has he been affecting Shirabu that much? He bites back a grin.

“It’s your first time . . . you deserve a good one,” Shirabu mutters, barely audible.

Goshiki loses the grin, his eyes widening. “Are you really worried about that?” he asks. “Shirabu!” He tries to sit up, but of course he can’t. “It’ll be good because it’s with you! That’s all I want . . . to be with you.” His entire body is flushed; he’s pretty sure he can’t get any warmer than this.

Shirabu looks back at him, eyes calculating. Goshiki has no idea what he’s thinking, but he does his best to give him a reassuring smile. “I love you, Shirabu-san!”

Shirabu’s eyes widen as his face glows red. “Don’t say that so casually!” he hisses. He drops his forehead onto Goshiki’s shoulder with a soft groan. “And don’t . . . call me that . . . in here,” he adds haltingly.

Goshiki squints. “What am I supposed to call you then?”

Shirabu snorts. “My name?”

“Oh!” Goshiki starts in surprise, turning his head slightly to find his nose buried in Shirabu’s soft hair, slightly damp against his scalp. Can he really do that? Address Shirabu like they’re equals? He decides to try it out. “Kenjirou . . .”

Shirabu trembles on top of him. It sends another pleasant tingle through him. Grinning, he says it again, whispering it across Shirabu’s ear. “Kenjirou.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shirabu says quickly, sitting up and placing one hand over Goshiki’s mouth.

Goshiki can’t stop smiling, though, and he looks up at Shirabu happily. “I love you, Kenjirou!” he exclaims from behind his hand.

Shirabu looks angry, but Goshiki knows that’s not his _real_ angry face. It’s his embarrassed one. He laughs delightedly. “You said! You said I could call you that!”

“I know I did! Don’t make me regret it!” he shouts back.

Goshiki leans his head back against the pillows, wiggling his fingers slowly. “Can I touch you now?” he asks hopefully.

Shirabu glances toward his arms, hesitating only briefly before nodding, once. Goshiki feels the invisible grip release, and he immediately wraps his arms around Shirabu, sitting up slightly to kiss him deeply, as he holds him close. Shirabu’s trembling again, his fingers digging into Goshiki’s shoulders, as he kisses him back. Goshiki knows that this must be a lot for him, to be this vulnerable, this intimate, and he’s so, so, _so_ happy that he’s willing to make the effort with Goshiki. It makes him feel special.

He kisses the side of Shirabu’s face and then his neck, burying his nose in it briefly before leaning back to look at him. “Can you _please_ fuck me now?” he asks hopefully.

Shirabu snorts, a barely concealed laugh. He pushes Goshiki back against the bed, shaking his head at him, as he moves down his legs some. Goshiki watches, as Shirabu picks up something lying on the mattress beside them. A small tube. He opens it and squeezes something like gel onto his fingers, rubbing them together. Goshiki’s eyes widen as he realizes what it is, and he swallows hard, his heart pounding in his ears, as Shirabu gently nudges Goshiki’s legs apart, lifting one up over his shoulder, as he moves in closer again.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says seriously, even as his finger begins to massage his entrance.

Goshiki inhales sharply at the strange sensation. He’s jerked off plenty of times, but he’s never experimented further down. He trembles, as Shirabu’s fingers begin to poke and prod into him just slightly, just enough to cause some discomfort, as he clenches around the intrusion.

Shirabu takes that moment to grab his cock, and Goshiki _yelps_. He didn’t realize just how much his body _needed_ that. The pleasure is sharp and instantaneous, almost too much for him to bear already. Pre-cum dumps from his tip in an embarrassing amount, and he’s almost afraid he’s already climaxed, but then he recognizes the hot tension still coiled within him, aching.

“Fuck!” he gasps, completely forgetting to watch his language.

Shirabu smirks faintly, giving him a few tugs, even as his fingers down below push further into him. Goshiki’s experiencing way too many things at once. He can’t focus on any of them. He feels the sting of the stretch, but it’s greatly overshadowed by the pleasure surging through him as Shirabu’s hand continues to twist and pull on his shaft. It feels ten times better than his own hand, or maybe that’s just because it’s Shirabu. He can’t tell.

“Oh geez, oh wow,” he pants, grimacing and curling his fingers into the sheets beneath him.

How Shirabu can keep up two different movements with his hands so effortlessly, Goshiki has no idea. He’s super good at this! Then again, it’s Shirabu so of course he would be. He trembles, biting his lip against the whimper that threatens to sound, as Shirabu’s fingers push deeper into him.

“Ahh, ah, Shirabu! Kenjirou!” Goshiki moans, not entirely sure what to request, but just knowing he needs _more_.

Shirabu pulls away instead, leaving him whining in response.

“Nooo, why did you stop?” he asks, lifting his head to look down at Shirabu in betrayal.

“I’m putting on the condom,” Shirabu says tightly, his eyes on what he’s doing.

Goshiki blinks, watching, as Shirabu shudders, slipping the rubbery sleeve onto his dick, which Goshiki now notices is flushed pink and dripping like his own. He continues to stare, as Shirabu covers himself with the lube, his mouth dropping open and a low moan sounding as he does. He must’ve been pretty touch-starved, too.

Shirabu’s hands shake, as he positions himself over Goshiki. Goshiki gives him what he hopes is a reassuring grin, though he’s feeling a little quaky himself at the moment. He reaches up to touch Shirabu’s cheek, a feather-light brush of fingertips against skin. Shirabu leans into it, though, which surprises him. Any tenderness from Shirabu is surprising, but Goshiki relishes it, wishing he could take a photo of this moment and keep it with him forever.

“I love you, Kenjirou,” he says again, softly.

Shirabu doesn’t respond. He glances down, lining himself up, and then Goshiki feels the head of his cock against him, entering him, filling him up. He groans, _loudly_. He can’t help it. The lube makes the transition smooth, but it hurts more than he expected it would, and it takes him a moment to get used to it. Shirabu pauses about halfway in, arms trembling, as he holds himself up over Goshiki.

“A-are you—?”

Goshiki nods quickly. “Yes, yes.” He doesn’t care how much it hurts. He wants Shirabu to fill him up completely, to surround him, overwhelm him. It feels so _good_ to be this close to him. He knows he’s not the only one who gets to be, but still. This situation right now is unique to them, to him and Shirabu, and he grasps Shirabu’s back with his fingers, gripping him, needing him.

Shirabu pushes the rest of the way inside with a soft cry, and Goshiki’s warm, much too warm, and stuffed, so stuffed. He squirms under him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, knowing he’s too tense and attempting to relax, breathing hard through his nose.

Shirabu’s forehead drops onto his shoulder, and Goshiki can feel his hot breath against his skin, as he pants quickly. He doesn’t say anything, but Goshiki can tell the strain of staying still is getting to him.

“Y-you can move,” he tells him on a gasp.

“F-fuuuuck,” Shirabu groans, as his hips began to rock, and he slides halfway out of Goshiki before thrusting back in.

It still stings, at first, but as Shirabu continues, Goshiki gets used to it. It dulls to an ache, and then it starts to feel _good_. Not in any way he’s ever felt before, but it does. It’s strange and uncomfortable yet at the same time it’s Shirabu, and he’s moving inside of him, and the pressure gives way to pleasure, and he finds his toes curling, as his head falls back against the pillows.

“Mmn, nng, _Kenjirou_,” he moans toward the ceiling with a grimace. The pleasure is growing. His dick is caught between their bodies, rubbing up against Shirabu’s stomach with each of his thrusts, and that’s sending pleasure through him as well.

Shirabu isn’t making much noise other than muffled groans and a couple whimpers, but his thrusts grow more desperate as time passes, his hips jerking and shoving against Goshiki’s ass, harder and faster. Pain sparks at first, but then the pleasure overtakes it again, surging through him, hotter and sharper.

“Ah, _ah_, it feels so good, you feel so good!” He has no idea if he’s being too loud or not. He can’t gauge that right now. Everything feels too good. It’s overwhelming.

“Tsutomu.” It’s soft, barely above a murmur and hidden within a moan, but Goshiki hears it. His name. It sends a jolt of something through him, he can’t identify it in the moment, but it causes him to cry out softly in response, and he grips Shirabu closer, hands shifting up to his shoulder blades.

His eyes have been closed for a little while, he’s not entirely sure when he closed them. He opens them now, and he can see how the shadows of the room have grown, creeping inward. He’s not afraid, though. With Shirabu inside him, all around him, the last thing he feels is fear. He can’t help but remember the wings, and he glances toward the space above Shirabu’s back. There’s nothing there, and he can feel a slight pang of disappointment.

It’s quickly overtaken by a hot burst of pleasure, though, as Shirabu hits against a spot that causes his back to arch almost involuntarily.

“Oh! Wow! Fuck!” he cries out. What was _that_?

Shirabu rams against it again, and Goshiki yelps, nails digging into Shirabu’s skin. It feels _incredible_. Wow! Sex is incredible! Why didn’t anyone _tell_ him it could feel this good?!

“Tsutomu.” Shirabu’s next moan is louder, and his thrusts become disjointed, sliding just off from that spot as he picks up the pace once more. It aches, and Goshiki trembles beneath him, even as he lifts his hips to try and get him back into place again. He’s not sure how much longer he can last, honestly, but he wants to feel that spark again!

“Shit,” Shirabu hisses, as he tenses. Suddenly, he stops moving altogether.

“What? Whyyyy?” Goshiki wails, nudging his heel against Shirabu’s ass as best he can, trying to get him to move again.

“Hold on,” Shirabu grunts, shifting some in order to reach between them.

Goshiki gasps, as he feels his hand once more wrapped around his cock. He squirms, as Shirabu starts to tug on him in short, quick jerks. His palm slides over his skin easily, considering how wet he is, and Goshiki feels the pleasure rushing sharp and bright once more, sparking through his veins like lightning. He arches into it, feeling himself falling over the edge like getting caught in a wave crashing against the sand, tumbling and disoriented.

Everything fades for a brief second, as his climax hits and he cries out at the intense burst of pleasure. Then he’s gasping for breath, falling back against the mattress, and Shirabu is moving again, even harder and faster than before. Goshiki bites his lip hard, tears stinging his eyes, as the pleasure tips over into something else. It’s too sharp, too bright, and he isn’t sure how much he can take.

“Just . . . give me,” Shirabu gasps, unable to finish his sentence. The room has grown completely dark, save for the space on the bed where they are. Goshiki can see the writhing of the shadows above them, sparks of red magic crackling through, with each soft cry from Shirabu.

He blinks away the tears filling his vision, as the faint outline of black wings appear to unfurl from Shirabu’s back. Goshiki moves his hands away, staring with wide eyes and a slack jaw, as they appear to grow, not quite solid but not just a shadow either.

Then Shirabu stiffens and cries out one last time, finally ceasing his movements. Goshiki licks his dry lips, relief filling him once Shirabu pulls out. He relaxes against the sheets, as Shirabu drops on top of him, breathing hard. Goshiki’s not faring much better, panting quickly, as the shadows begin to recede, and the wings flutter and slip back into Shirabu’s skin. He moves his hands back over Shirabu’s shoulder blades, but he doesn’t feel anything.

“Did they show up again?” Shirabu murmurs against his neck.

“Yeah,” Goshiki admits softly. He bites his lip before smiling. “They were so beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up,” Shirabu grumbles, burying his face deeper.

Goshiki’s smile widens into a grin, and he wraps both arms around Shirabu, holding him firmly. “I liked that a lot,” he decides after a moment. “You felt so good! Let’s do it again.”

Shirabu pushes off him, rolling over with a groan. He sits up, pulling off the condom to tie it off before tossing it toward the trash can. “You’re not going to be so eager tomorrow,” he says flatly, flopping down onto his back.

Goshiki turns onto his side, carefully because he _is_ a bit sore. “But you liked it too, right?” he asks hopefully. “You’re going to want to be with me again?”

Shirabu closes his eyes, breathing quietly. He nods then, just once. “Of course, stupid,” he mutters. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?”

Goshiki gasps, sitting up on his elbow to stare down at Shirabu in shock. “Kenjirou! You called me your boyfriend!”

“Shut up, that’s what you _are_,” Shirabu says, folding his arms over his face to hide it.

“Yeah, but you’ve never actually said it!” Goshiki grins, pretty sure this is the best birthday he’s ever had. He lays back down on his side, staring at Shirabu’s chin, since that’s all he can see beneath his arms. “I’m really happy.”

Shirabu just grunts softly, but it sounds like he says, “good.”

Goshiki inches closer, and then a little closer still. He doesn’t try to hold Shirabu. They’re both really sweaty, and sticky, and it’s still too warm. But he nudges his forehead against Shirabu’s shoulder, letting it rest there lightly. Shirabu doesn’t pull away.

They lay there together until they start shivering, at which time they head into the bathroom to rinse off and take a long soak in the tub. Shirabu even holds Goshiki’s hand beneath the water, sappy as that is.

Yes, today’s definitely the best birthday ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


End file.
